


Twilight and Evening Bell

by RoyalCorkscrew



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: F/F, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 21:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15693552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalCorkscrew/pseuds/RoyalCorkscrew
Summary: Life was a delicate balance of horror and survival, the two changing meaning depending on where you looked. Jackson had provided some hope, some semblance of peace to offset the kilter in an impossible third direction; however, an unexplained act of violence threatens to disturb that peace for Ellie, who had found an unexpected home here.





	Twilight and Evening Bell

"For some people a bird sings, feathers shine. I just get this _this_." – Anne Carson, Gnosticism

 

 

The first ones to see the gruesome display were the children. 

They had those here. Children. Perhaps their world left little room for little lives, for little hopes that grow and are then diminished, but it housed them all the same: with an indifference that belied the horrors kept out by the compound walls. Built by the years of hard work Tommy, or Maria, or Dalton, the Chief Engineer, could often be heard recounting. By the hope and desperation that each resident had carved into their bones, by the pain and fear that somehow seeped into every corner, always mocking in the periphery, daring you to live beyond survival. 

Built by all this stood the illusion of normalcy within the walls. And happiness was a battle waged daily. Regardless, the quiet excitement of the children to be dispatched on their first “practice” patrol run had almost been palpable that morning- funny, almost, as Ellie knew what some of those kids had had to endure on their way here. She knew Em who couldn’t sleep sometimes and could be seen walking down the street with her jittery gait, knew Trevor, who was almost as into those comic books as she was and who had to shoot his father a day before his arrival in Jackson. No one knew for certain, not how they had survived nor how fate who had ushered them all the way to their front step would see blood where hope was so near. Fate didn’t care.

Either way, Ellie would sometimes find herself shivering at the memories that seeing him fidget with his fork at dinner would evoke, the nervous tapping of feet even after all this time. She avoided “babysitting” duty as often as possible: “All for the better”, Dina claimed, “seeing your hot ass stumble around during patrol is too much fun.” The wink that followed would properly seal away the retort building up, that Ellie never actually stumbled out there- at least so long as a certain _someone_ didn’t brush against her, or breathe down her neck, or smile with those ridiculous dimples. Joel’s hypervigilance, duly picked up by her, was something she would occasionally miss, but he had to stay behind delegating patrols, planning routes, and being an all-around General Zolard, as he hated being called. He had gotten her the comic, and he refused to keep that beard in order, so General Zolard it was.

It wasn’t all bad not having him around out there- Dina appreciated her puns way more, and Theo was almost not unbearable under Jesse’s watchful eye- but today Ellie really wished he could haul his old ass out here faster, because explaining elaborate homicide to the 10-to-12 year age group really wasn’t within her field of expertise. Running was, though, and she had been the first person to reach the small group upon hearing the SOS on the transceiver- they really weren’t even meant to go too far out dammit, whatever happened to _practice_? Panting silently, cold sweat frozen on the back of her neck despite the mid-July humidity, Ellie had arrived to a halting stop, grateful for the split second it took for her stomach to catch up. She wasn’t too sure she could have kept her breakfast down.

The shock having faded, though, she decided the sight wasn’t much to behold. She considered herself somewhat accustomed to all sorts of animal carnage, a thought she took care never to contemplate deeply lest the taste of iron and the crackling fire take her back, a machete hacking away at her fear. No, the single corpse laid before her should not have been a big deal. Certainly not one big enough to justify an emergency signal- whatever happened to grouping strategies, clearing the perimeter, identifying the perpetrator, _then_ filing in a “help-us-the-fuck-out” signal?- and glancing around, Ellie knew she would have to do something about that. A stern talking-to? Where the fuck was Joel when she needed him?

No, the corpse wasn’t the problem, and neither was the abysmal reaction of the patrol- they were too young dammit, if such a thing meant anything anymore. No, the problem was what the carcass meant.

Rooted into an upright position on his knees, by what appeared to be steel rebar- from a building? There shouldn’t be any nearby- forced down his mouth and firmly planted into the dark soil. The dead man appeared almost amazed at the brute force required for that feat alone, with his bloodied, lifeless face in a skyward look, affixed by the metal piercing through his entire upper torso. The forest air wasn’t overpowered by the sharp stench of decomposition, though it was harder to tell what with the malodorous remains a boy- Ron?- was currently heaving over, and Ellie wondered how long the body had been there and why no one had picked up on this clearly deliberate fucking display so close to the compound. She hadn’t picked up any trail on her quick recon of the area, but safety never was a certainty. The leaves in the area had holes in them, like tiny bullets, so no infected- spores discouraged insect life, a surprising piece of information Maria had shared unprompted one evening. Ellie eventually allowed herself a quick appraisal of the young group, hiding their fear behind trembling shoulders and fidgeting hands; youth was the dust stubbornly clinging to their faces, washed off sooner rather than later.

Ellie rubbed the sweat off her forehead before tensing, her ears picking up some quaint rustling from the nearby brush.

 

//

 

The cat suddenly sprang out of the grass it had been playing in for the past few minutes. Rory, Dina had dubbed him, was missing an eye, half an ear, and- despite Dina’s adamant insistence otherwise- much love for humankind. Ellie had no doubt the monster would have little qualms clawing the life out of her if the opportunity ever arose. The opportunity, as it were, arose quite frequently, as Dina had a habit of leaving leftover food for him, and Ellie, who often wondered at the poisonous variety of feline diet, had an unfortunate habit of being unable to stray too far from her best friend- terrible judgement of faunal character notwithstanding. 

Perhaps it was because of that annoying, enchanting scent that clung to her friend, that combination of an earthy aroma and some sterilizer they would use sparingly in the building serving as the hospital ward, where Dina was All-Mighty Apprentice and where she would only occasionally leave pouting after receiving some lecture from her mother. Dr. Raheem wasn’t much for humor, and certainly not for dancing, nor being out so late with up-to-no-good teenagers, and Ellie was absolutely jealous that there were parent-child relationships yet that suffered from regular issues. 

She eyed Joel, seated only a few chairs away in the rec center/impromptu church, which was slowly filling up. He was chatting with Esther. Or rather, Esther was chatting with him as he looked vaguely lost, almost confused about the tiny smile barely crawling through that scraggly beast on his face, which Ellie ranked number two on her list only on account of Rory, who was still very much visible through the windows and still very much being his stupid self on the grass.

She was dragged back into the present when Dina, with her dumb, heavenly smell and that eye-crinkling smile she had upon seeing where Ellie was looking, gently squeezed her knee. 

Funerals were pretty fucking boring.

“I heard he was a really handsome man back in the day,” Dina murmurs, head slightly tilted in her direction.

“So everybody keeps saying,” Ellie snorts, feeling the slight discomfort she had been nursing ever since she had first heard this comment, of the many to come. It appeared the majority of Jackson who happened to comment on the death- one of natural causes, how fucking rare was that?- all agreed on one thing: Noah was one dapper fellow, may he rest in peace.

It had to be against some rule, remarking on something so senselessly superficial after somebody had died, but Ellie kept her thoughts to herself and nodded through the brief conversations. Not that she was much for socializing, as it were, so it hadn’t provided much fodder for conversation anyway.

“Why does everybody keep talking about that?” Ellie wondered, trusting Dina to at least provide some insight, and perhaps even let go of her knee because she wasn’t sure she wanted to test how much sweatier her palms could get.

“I mean, I understand that it’s easier not to dwell on the end of a life, but-…“ Ellie supplied, before shutting up after noting the sudden silence in the room. Houser and Dalton, who were sitting in the row in front of them, had stopped their discussion on refining the redistribution conduits for the hydroelectric dam by doing something-or-the-other with the power lines. Joel and Esther, joined by Maria at some point, had also followed suit and Ellie noticed that Tommy had moved up to the front of the room and was now standing next to Jason, Noah’s only child and the sole inheritor of his good looks.

The speeches took forever, and Ellie really should have been paying attention but she couldn’t help the tapping of her foot, leg finally free from and immediately missing the soothing warmth of Dina’s palm, as she glanced around making sure the exits were free, wondering about who was assigned to the watchtower today. Was it Liz, who needed to control her breathing better while aiming down the rifle? Or perhaps it was Ridley, who-

“You should really, really learn to pay better attention, young lady,” Dina suddenly intoned, imitating Ms. Heathrow’s demanding tone, whose lessons they had to attend 3 days a week, and who made sure they _attended_ them 3 days a week. Her eyebrow was raised in that adorable way indicating that Ellie was in for some shit. 

“That time you totally covered for me with mom? Yeah, it’s totally paid for, what with all your damn foot tapping.” Dina lightly pushes against her shoulder, fingers lingering there for a second too long, and Ellie is pretty damn sure sometime during the speeches they had cranked the room’s temperature up by about a million degrees.

She glances away, flushed, suddenly remembering back when the two of them had gone picking tomatoes last year; or rather, Ellie was assigned to go pick tomatoes and Dina had offered to tag along, voluntarily- though you really wouldn’t have thought as much what with all the griping about the heat. She had later proceeded to take off her shirt, and Ellie had not stared, stuttered, or blushed halfway to hell. Dina’s magnanimity, then, came through in the form of mortifying teasing. Comparing Ellie’s face to the exact shade and ripeness of a tomato she held, with a smile Ellie swore she could feel fill up her blood, bulging her arteries until every sensation had suddenly ceased, filling her up as if some blistering afterimage was branded inside her body. Suddenly the sun, the wind, the stench of the small farm nextdoor, Dina’s freckles, everything, everything seemed to be contained inside of her, just for a moment, and breathing felt as unnatural to her as the idea of ever looking away from those gentle, amused eyes. Jesus, she needed to get a hold of herself.

Glancing around, in the absolute opposite direction of a certain girl sitting immediately next to her, a knee gently resting against hers, Ellie spies Tommy, who has now joined Joel and Esther. 

“Tommy’s done quite the job setting them up, huh? Joel certainly seems happier,” Dina remarks from behind her.

“Which is definitely to your advantage, you freeloader,” Ellie accuses, nudging Dina’s knee.

“You sayin’ you don’t enjoy the sleepovers, Ms. Cuddler Extraordinaire?” Dina bites right back, trying to look offended, the effect being entirely ruined by her laughter and a tender something in her eyes. Ellie blushes again, feeling dizzy, center of gravity pooled somewhere by her ankles, a soft melody strumming through her nerves, as she realizes that she’d let this crazy, crazy confident girl break her heart.

Perhaps more importantly, she'd trust her not to. Or pretend. Dina was worth the effort

“Nah, I just keep you around for your mom’s brownies, which, by the way, are heavenly,” she replies, a beat too late.

“What’s heavenly? Ol’ Noah’s ark here? Cause I think I spied that old gentleman filling his ship with the hearts of all the ladies in town,” Jesse suddenly chimes in, appearing out of thin air and sliding next to Dina, wagging his eyebrows in exaggeration. 

”A true legend, may he rest in peace,” he keeps a straight face, threatening to break with a smile, as he mimes crossing himself. 

“Alas, our love shall remain buried forever in our chests,” Dina theatrically flips her hair, “is that not so, Dame Ellie?”

“But of course, Sir Noah and his market wares will forever be missed,” Ellie lets them drag her in, imitating a ridiculous accent, before they all dissolve into giggles. It doesn’t last long, however, as she sees the adoring look Jesse gives Dina, how happy they both look, and suddenly a weight is tugging her chest inward. Seeing Ellie sobering up with a serious, contorted expression, Dina brushes her fingers against the back of Ellie’s.

A beat.

“It’s a celebration.”

To this, Ellie only scrunches up her eyebrows in confusion.

“They all mention how handsome he was to remember him, who he was, rather than what he left behind. Rather than forging a memory of his death,” Dina’s tone is soft as she gently grips a few of her fingers, Ellie looking away, ”They celebrate his life. It is not a luxury we get too often.”

Jesse shuffles in his seat, leaning forward to listen, as Ellie remains inclined forward, elbows on knees, eyes locked away.

“There is something about this, being able to see him, whole as he is, and talk about the good times that helps, you know,” He supplies.

Dina hums quietly. “Maybe I’ll drag you along to the embalming next time, huh?” she jokes lightly.

“Yeah, no thanks, I think smelling it on you is enough to dazzle a girl,” Ellie remarks back, finally cracking a small smile.

“Oh, is that so?” Dina remarks in that incredulous tone, and the next thing she knows Ellie is engulfed in a bear hug, warmth surrounding her as delicate strings tug at an emotion deep in her belly.

“Ah, formaldehyde, the ultimate wingman”, Dina sighs, amusement coloring her tone, before tucking herself even closer to Ellie, whose heart rate has uncontrollably picked up, surrendering entirely to the perfume- that scent so distinguishably Dina without, luckily, a hint of cadaveric fragrance- and relaxes for a second before glancing towards Jesse, who is watching the two with a fond smile.

Ellie feels a pang and inwardly groans as she feels the weight of a freckled cheek resting on her head, deciding she has to be absolutely fucking anosmic to deal with her little predicament. _Anosmic_. Damn the day she had asked dina to tell her something, anything at all, from one of those huge medical textbooks of hers. It had to be the weirdest thing to consider a family heirloom, and Ellie had gently brushed up against her back pocket where her knife was safely tucked away as she had listened to this vibrant girl ramble on in an enchanting way bordering inhumane.

Sighing, she glanced around her at the funeral, still somewhat befuddled by it all. Marlene had mentioned cremation, pointedly ignoring Ellie’s joke about fireflies, before giving her a look full of unbearable sympathy as they both no doubt remembered a firefly who had recently been lost. Ellie refused to think much on it, or the pendant that had, then and on many other occasions afterwards, felt as though it was branding her skin. What fire indeed.

Funerals are catastrophically weird, she thought, her hand instinctively moving to where the pendant would hang.

She wonders if her mother ever had one.

 

///

 

Death was ugly.

It had marred the face of the body, crudely affixed onto the soil, as it often did: with the lack of a _thereness_ that animated life. No, whoever had declared death as peaceful must not have seen eyes gouged out, a visage furrowed with pain that could never be removed again. It stood out in such sepulchral sharpness that no one could really look at it for too long. Ellie knew they would have to remove the body, if only for the sake of future patrols. 

A familiar weight of footsteps made their way out of the bramble and suddenly Ellie was there again. Not needing to focus on all potential dangers, suddenly the shaky breathing of the children huddled before her reached her ears. Support had arrived. She knew Joel was there from a familiar grip on her shoulder, but along with them also came a loss of acuity. She could not recall what had been done with the display in the immediate aftermath or where anybody had gone. Everything was a blur- murmured discussions, shepherding the young patrol group away, the effort of removing the rebar to move the body- it was all a sequence of hyperclear images, rolling through some dreamlike sludge in her mind. 

What had been done to the body- it wasn’t survival. It was horror. 

She had witnessed her fair share of it, but perhaps Jackson had softened her memory. Memory that, now triggered, lashed out at her, flogging a numbness into her thoughts and blank expression. The rest of the day must have been automatically normal- the town was quick to learn about the incident and nobody bothered her as she sat alone during dinner, ignoring the occasional glances from her friends. 

“You doin’ alright, kiddo?” was Joel’s greeting as she entered through the door that night.

Ellie hummed. She wondered at what they had decided to do about the whole situation- what did the body mean? Would they be investigating? Fortifying the dam?- but didn’t have the energy to discuss it. Stupid. Whatever had happened to all that military training drilled into her?

She trudged into her room, disregarding whatever comment Joel had made about her muddy shoes and threw herself onto her bed. Going to sleep that night, she promised herself that she’d check up on the plans tomorrow. And remind Joel to chastise the little fuckers for wandering too far out, assuming they hadn’t already received the lesson of a lifetime.

 

////

 

She wakes up with a lurch, reeling forward as her balance takes a second to catch up to her consciousness. Eyeing the corners of the room through quickened breathing, it takes Ellie a moment to realize where she is. And who she is with. 

Her arm haphazardly thrown over her some time during the night, Ellie can feel Dina tensing her way to sudden alertness from the disruption. Ellie cannot remember her nightmare, a rare mercy, so just stares at the impression the earphones had left on Dina’s cheek as the girl cracks one eye open. Apparently they had fallen asleep listening to that song Joel had tried teaching Ellie on the guitar earlier that week. Feeling for the walkman lost between them, Ellie glances at her bedside clock. Had that really only been 3 hours ago? 

Stretching her shoulders, her eyes drift toward Dina, who really just has no right to look so good in Ellie’s pyjamas, and who is now fully awake, silently watching her, concern coloring her eyes. Ellie watches her back, watches the freckles dusted onto the girl’s face like rocks pebbled on a river, trying in vain to slow the gushing rapids, and instead causing waves to froth over the water’s surface like an upside down whirlpool, drawing Ellie in, tempting her own wreckage.

“You’re staring, Bizzaro,” Dina rubs her eyes, mouth cracked in a small smile, and shifts into a sitting position on the bed, arms wrapping around her knees, “Bad dream?”

“Bad dream,” Ellie quietly nods, too fazed to feel embarrassed at the comment.

Dina hums, patting the space next to her for Ellie to settle back down. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Ellie scoffs, unable to shake just yet the strangely unsettling residue of whatever the nightmare was.

“Not that I- just won’t- I don’t rememb-...” Ellie stammers out in response to the raised eyebrow, hearing how dismissive her answer must have sounded, before coughing herself to a stop. Flushed, she refuses to wonder at the rollercoaster of emotions this girl, who is much too at home in Ellie’s sheets, is able to cause.

“S’alright. Better to forget sometimes,” Dina replies cryptically, the last part barely intelligible through the mumbling.

“You get them often?” Ellie is unable to help her prodding, as a serious look flashing on Dina’s face catches her eye. She is not used to seeing that expression on the girl’s face, and sobers up as a noncommittal noise makes it way from the girl’s throat.

“Sometimes.”

“What about?” Ellie has no idea how to wade through this minefield she feels the conversation trapping her into, doesn’t know if Dina would rather she just shut up and stop prying, but something in the wax-like incline of her neck, that hardened fragility so rarely piercing through the softness of the girl’s features drives her to keep asking. She unconsciously holds her breath, watches as the dim moonlight streaming through the weirdly placed window in her room reflects faint motes of light in Dina’s eyes.

Dina hesitates, then sighs. 

“Just-... about there being others. Immune. Sometimes.” She looks away almost guiltily, clutching her other arm situated away from Ellie, whose face is scrunched up in surprised confusion.

“Like-...” Dina suddenly tries to continue, face whipping towards her, eyes briefly closed in frustration, “What if we live the way we live not because of the infection but because of fear? What if we just killed everyone else who was immune because we were _scared_?”

She had begun lightly tracing Ellie’s tattoo while talking, and the last word was accentuated with a grip on her forearm. Ellie allows herself the solid feel of her grasp as she pushes past a sudden flood of memories; ignores how much she could have meant, or how little she could have changed anything. Fear. She could not dwell there, but that didn’t change the fact that, for a moment, Joel’s rhythmic snoring echoing through the hall was something other than reassuring.

Ellie takes a deep breath.

“And how do you deal with them? The nightmares?” Ellie glances at Dina, who is sporting a troubled look, no doubt at the unintended crisis that must have shone its way straight through Ellie’s face.

“Well,” and Ellie can’t help the beginnings of a smile from the way Dina shifts and drops her tone into something more jocular, “I don’t _usually_ wake up from them with a beautiful girl in my bed, but it sure seems to help.”

Ellie blushes, a murmured “fuck off” is directed at Dina and her shit-eating grin, and just like that the room isn’t so stuffy anymore, her window being right at the corner of her room not as perplexing. 

“I think of here. Jackson. My life here, my friends…” Dina drifts off for a moment before looking directly at Ellie’s eyes, “You. It gives me hope. It’s a light.”

Ellie imagines she would have been amused at the twist of the firefly motto had she possessed any semblance of her mental faculties, having found herself hopelessly transfixed by Dina’s gaze. Heart catching in her throat, she glances away, unable to handle the intensity, and definitely unaware of the blistering warmth on her skin from where Dina’s hand was still carelessly placed, so close to her bite mark. There had to be a more platonic way to react to everything her incredible, asshole of a best friend did for fuck’s sake.

Meanwhile Dina, unaware of Ellie’s internal diatribe, had continued talking.

“It’s just… Light isn’t really the good in darkness. It just illuminates it, so we all see what the darkness is made of, you know? Jackson gives me hope, but,” Dina hesitates for a second, eyes downcast, almost in search of some hidden truth in the messy sheets, “sometimes it just reminds me of all that could be. And never was.”

At that, Dina finally glances up and a laugh without mirth escapes her mouth upon noting the expression on Ellie’s face, who herself is unsure what to feel about what she just heard.

“Only sometimes, you doofus,” Dina says, briefly brushing the back of her fingers along Ellie’s jaw, “like when my sleepover buddy scares the shit out of me when jumping awake.”

A pause.

“How do you deal with nightmares?” Dina asks, when Ellie just looks apologetic at the joke, settling her head onto Ellie’s shoulder.

“Well, unlike you, I often wake up with a beautiful girl in my bed,” Ellie dodges the mock punch aimed at her, laughing silently, grateful that once again they were on lighter grounds. The intimacy of a midnight conversation with someone she trusted was intoxicating her into the wild belief of being the only two people in the world, and she could not tell if the notion comforted or terrified her. A part of the confusion could most certainly be delegated to the weight on her shoulder, and the strands of frizzy hair gently tickling the skin beneath her jaw.

“No, but seriously. The fact that we _can_ have sleepovers helps.” 

Ellie can feel Dina’s head shifting, and imagines the gently questioning look on her face as she refuses to meet her eyes, scared that they could coax out so much tenderness and that wild vulnerability from deep within.

“Just to have someone, and be able to spend time with them, you know? Doing normal things” Ellie continues.

“A life worth living.” Dina’s voice is barely above a whisper, and Ellie feels her shift off of her should and settle onto the headboard. Head tilted back and eyes closed, Dina quietly repeats, “A life worth living.”

Ellie finds herself captivated, unable to peel her eyes away from this creature who could always cheer her up, who always found a way to turn a situation into some fun adventure; who had mischief gilding her eyes but whom Ellie knew she could count on no matter the situation. This girl whose breathing was the softest lullaby, luring her into what she knew would be peaceful sleep this time around.

“Back in the QZ,” Dina suddenly starts, Ellie forcing herself to stay conscious upon noting the emotion in her tone, ”Mom worked in tandem with the government. Had to, really. And it was about as cold, practical, and inhumane as anyone can imagine. I suppose... I’m just scared of waking up one day to find everything worth caring for is gone.”

Dina’s fingers are digging into Ellie’s forearm, enough to draw some pain at this point, but Ellie takes no notice as she looks at Dina, whose eyes, faithfully trained onto the ceiling this entire time, suddenly return her gaze and Ellie does not hesitate before wrapping up this girl into her arms like it was the last thing she would ever do on this earth.

Her last sleepy thought before drifting off, nestled around Dina’s comforting breathing, is that she would hit up Joel first thing in the morning, insisting he give her more lessons so she could master that song, and many more, on the guitar.

 

/////

 

Ellie went out to the wood because a fire was in her head.

Hollow-boned, it wasn’t until the sound of rushing water ripped into her ears that she stopped, realizing she’d gone out much further than she had intended. She knew she didn’t want to encounter any infected or whoever-the-fucks had orchestrated the little display yesterday, but deep down she wondered if some unknown wish for catharsis had dragged her out here. 

Shaking her head, she focused on her hands, stretching them outward and taking a controlled breath before closing them into shaking fists. The clean smell of the stream and salty humidity of the woods playing along her senses as she stared at the water.

The unrest of the stream manifested in color. The water, curling over itself with frothy white speed turned its surrounding a torrid opaque. No longer just blue or white- there was a greenness to it, almost imitating the trees it longed to reach. Ellie absentmindedly rubbed her tattoo. This wasn't the contained energy of the dam; no, this was nature running fiercely free.

Ellie took another deep breath as she tried to collect her thoughts.

Nothing.

They had decided to do fucking nothing. 

Stretched thin as they were from last week’s bandit attack- shouldn’t that be some galvanizing warning?- and besides no harm no foul- tell that to the rotting corpse and the strangely quiet kids’ table, why don’t you? Joel was silent, Tommy thought there was nothing they could do but wait, Maria insisted inaction wasn’t nothing, and everybody else agreed with Maria. It was settled then. Let’s paint a giant fucking target sign on our town!

Joel had been raptly watching her, making Ellie hate that he knew she was being rash. She had stormed out of the town hall, unable to bear the metallic emptiness that had rushed in to replace the feeling of safety Ellie had always associated with the place. The feeling of home, she had thought, as she made her way out of town, face wrought into an expression that quickly discouraged any questions as she shut the gate behind her.

Something had gotten a hold of her, that same something which had made her steal a horse and leave Joel before he could leave her all those years ago. That something which still whispered in the back of her head every time she held a gun; check, double-check, triple-check, you can’t fuck up and lose anyone again!

Ellie hadn’t realized she was crying until her ears started ringing, her lungs sputtering out pained gasps. She couldn’t quite tell if any tears were flowing down her face- her skin felt like steel. 

She would later blame the fuming numbness as she realized too late that someone was standing behind her. 

 

//////

 

What she didn’t dwell on during the day always found a way to meander into her nights, flaying her dreams bare into a pain she was used to pushing deep into her bones. They wouldn’t break, and neither would she, but that never stopped the jolt and the salty taste on her lips as the thought of crawling into the clammy space of her bed felt as impossible as lifting her feet to carry her somewhere, out of bed, somewhere, anywhere, away from the ossuary of her thoughts. 

It was always worse on days like this, however scarce they had slowly become, when every color was washed out and every emotion a scintillating wave crashing her against an unseen shore, stuck on that bar of sand, like the rope in an unending tug of war between sea and land. The thoughtless rush of killing a clicker crossed her mind and she ignored how sick it felt to want that emotion right now. She needed some air. Pronto.

Sneaking out wasn’t a problem, and Ellie was careful to leave a piece of herself hanging from their impromptu coat rack-statue, there to worry about any minute possibility of something, or everything, going wrong.

Once outside, and comfortably ensconced in darkness, was when Ellie always realized how much she had grown used to a normal life in Jackson- whatever that word meant. Somewhere along the lines, the patrol duties, assignments, hell, even the lessons had become this visceral clockwork of her everyday. Somehow, she had come to prefer lending her knife to Jennis on a daily basis so she could fix her glasses, they kept mysteriously getting unscrewed, to other, much more macabre uses of it. It was in her loneliest, that she had to remind herself she was not alone, skulking about the town with the usually comforting background of electric buzzing from the dam, more often felt as a purring on skin rather than heard. Today, it was more of a soggy cloth uncomfortably wrapped around her skin than anything. 

She was not alone. She was _not_ alone. 

That mattered. The lie didn’t, though that never really stopped hurting, which may have been why she hadn’t woken Joel. Besides, he had his own nightmares. Though she could tell they were getting more and more sparse. Perhaps bearable. He deserved it, so she had left him to his sleep, although a small part of her was both annoyed and comforted knowing he’d be mad at her if he knew. Dad vibes and all.

Besides, it wasn’t nightmares keeping her awake. No, Ellie was haunted by dangerous ideas of justice, and she found herself pitilessly consumed by an uncontrollable emotion. From the first time she laid eyes on the body’s sick impaling, from the decision to wait before any plans were hatched, this _thing_ had been building, slowly, until it wasn’t slow anymore. Until she had heard the unmistakable hum of a blade gashing through the air by the stream and a split-second reaction, followed by a considerable longer, albeit futile, interrogation, was all it took for the cord to snap. The man had had his tongue cut off and Ellie’s retaliating blow, regrettably close to the femoral, was discouraging of any sort of time-sensitive creativity to draw out information as the man’s sallow, sunken cheeks soon reflected a lifeless white. Ellie had sat there, trembling, for few more precious seconds wondering whether adrenaline was the cause of her relish. She didn’t stay long enough to find out.

The gravel crunching under her feet, louder in the dead of night than is ever imaginable during the day, the way anything is really, Ellie didn’t realize where her feet were taking her until her somnambulant haze was rudely interrupted by some loose rubble. So maybe Dina hadn’t been entirely wrong about her stumbling. Balancing herself quickly, cursing all of rock-kind under her breath, Ellie looked up to see the Raheem household. Or rather, the Raheem-Bernheimer estate, as the two-storey building had been divvied up for optimal housing vis-à-vis population. That, and Mrs. Bernheimer was the single senior citizen in all of Jackson (“Aside from you,” Ellie was always keen to mumble to Joel before quickly ducking away). Placing her a single door away from Dr. Raheem meant she got immediate access to healthcare, and Dina all the grandmotherly love via feeding whenever she needed. How Mrs. Bernheimer came to have those extra pastries was one of the great mysteries of Jackson.

Smiling slightly at the thought, Ellie settled herself on an outcrop of rock jutting out of the tiny grass field, facing the street in front of the house- a field too small for sufficient picnicly affairs, they had discovered some years ago. 

Ellie wasn’t sure how long she stood out there, staring at Dina’s window. Silent guilt rooted her to her position. Dina had shown her concern through looks and the occasional brush of her arm against her, but nothing more. Ellie hadn’t been receptive to much more. They all understood- hell, _felt_ \- her worry. What they wouldn’t understand was the drive. To do something, anything. Ellie found her control slipping as her chest began to tighten more and more often exactly where Riley’s pendant had branded her skin, her mind, her memory. 

Everybody dealt with loss. But not the way she had. Ellie lived daily with the loss of the idea of losing herself. The loss of her purpose. All the loss everybody else would not have had to suffer, maybe, just _maybe_ , if she had been-... 

A whoosh.

Ellie found her arm outstretched for a strike before she even knew it, but the sharp pain of claws being dragged across her skin stopped her short of actual contact with what, even in the darkness, was unmistakably the very spawn of satan himself. Fucking cat.

“What do you want, Rory?” Ellie found herself hissing at the cretin who, having accomplished his mission, was innocently licking his paws. 

“I should just feed you to Buckley, you know, no one would even notice,” Ellie lied, knowing full well at least one person would notice and would not be forgiving her anytime soon were she to actually carry out the act of mercy. As if aware of her thoughts, the cat, perfectly unfazed, turned to face her, continuing its ministrations with what Ellie could swear was added haughtiness. She imagined she could see the bloody remains of an ill-fated bird around the cat’s mouth.

Turning away, Ellie once again found herself facing the town before her, picking up details here and there: how Dina’s window was slightly ajar, as always; the way some plants had erupted through the cement on the road, that might require some attention eventually. A biting wind had picked up at some point, and Ellie couldn’t help but shiver under her thin coat as the distant susurrus of wildlife signalled the gradual start of a new day.

That night, the stars tired out of their nocturnal shift above a wolf contemplating the walls around her.

> __  
> "Twilight and evening bell,  
>  And after that the dark!  
>  And may there be no sadness of farewell,  
>  When I embark;"  
>    
>  \- Excerpt from _Crossing the Bar_ , Lord Tennyson  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> I needed something to do other than constantly rewatching the demo.


End file.
